Only One: A Spot story
by kkkkristen
Summary: Have you ever had the fortune of seeing someone for the first time and in doing so the present and the future seem to fuse and you just know that that person, that stranger is going to change you life forever? Can’t say that I have. Well I sort of had.
1. Chapter 1

_Authors Note: Hey. Yeah, I don't own Newsies I know. God, you don't need to rub it into my face. Anyways…obviously this is a Spot fic. No surprise there anyway. I hope you like it anyway and I appreciate constructive criticism. I'll try to keep writing on a regular basis.

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**Only One: a Spot story**

Have you ever had the fortune of seeing someone for the first time and in doing so the present and the future seem to fuse and you just know that that person, that stranger is going to change you life forever? Can't say that I have. Well I sort of had. I didn't really see her. I only saw into her soul. And that's enough.

It all started one day as I was selling my papes down by the docks as I had for as long as I could remember. Only this day was different for some reason. At first I couldn't put my finger on it. I am after all just your typical non-observant teenage boy. Then I saw. On the side of the street right by the rail was the most beautiful painting I had ever seen. Beautifully painted on the cheap ply easel was just a painting of the bay at sunset but I saw much than that.

I saw the anguish put in it that could only be understood by someone who had gone to bed hungry before. I saw the prospect of hoping for better days. I saw the sorrow of someone who felt alone. Now, I know what you're thinking. Who ever knew that Spot Conlon had such an artistic and tortured soul? Well, let me tell you. There is a lot more to people than they let on. But don't go getting any ideas. Sensitivity or not I am still the toughest and most feared Newsie in Brooklyn. So there.

Anyways, my eyes scanned the painting taking in all of the views and feelings that I myself had experienced day after day. I felt that I truly knew the artist. I almost felt as if I was the artist. In the lower left hand corner I saw the name. Sprawled out in neat but rushed cursive Madeline Bray.

That day, I knew that this stranger, this Madeline Bray was to play a part in my life. I was to make it my goal to find her and tell her that I understood everything that she said in her painting. Now I know what you are thinking again. You're thinking I'm crazy. This Madeline girl could be like 80 years old. You're thinking that I am starting to get notions of love about this mysterious artist. And maybe I am but that doesn't mean anything. The feelings in this painting are too similar to my on to have come from an 80 year old woman. Besides even if they are, it's not like I am a stranger to disappointment.

How do I even know what the artist was trying to say in this painting? Well, I just do. Okay? The next thing I did I am not particularly proud of. I dropped my remaining papes, grabbed the painting and ran back to the lodge house. It's not like it was doing anyone any good just sitting there. Okay, maybe it was but I needed it more okay. They can have old papes for it instead.

Thankfully no one was around when I got to the lodge house so I was able to sneak the thing up to my room. I hung the painting across my bed on the wall. That way each night I'd be able to fall asleep and wake up to the sunset and the name of sweet Madeline. Whoever she was.

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_Authors Note: Hope that wasn't such a waste of time. Don't worry Spot won't become too stalkerish. And if you want to know if Madeline is really an 80 year old woman or not you will have to keep reading. xD_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Second Chapter! Finally...sorry it took so long_

**Chapter 2: Madeline's POV**

_I was sailing. The wind was in my hair, blowing my perfect curls behind me. My beautiful dress swirled as I twirled around relishing in the cool gentle winds. The sea spray kissed my face leaving a slight sticky mist on my perfect alabaster skin. The sun shone leaving my skin warm. Everywhere I looked was just miles and miles of clear blue sky and cool waves. _

Suddenly as if brought on by a sudden summer storm the sky turned gray and clouds formed. Lighting crashed disturbing the serenity of the ocean scene. Everything went black. The bottle crashed only an inch away from Madeline's foot jolting her awake.

"Wake up you lazy wretch! You're just like your mother. I want my paper…and a bottle of wine!"

Madeline sighed. "Good morning to you too darling father_." _Madeline thought as she stifled a yawn. It was sad to think that her personal nirvana had been destroyed just because of the selfishness and pettiness of one man.

"I know you heard me! Bring me what I want. You know I'm ill! And I have to see your blasted paint stuff on the floor out there again there will be hell to pay!"

How can he tell if my stuff is on the floor if you never get out of that bed, she wanted to ask but instead said:

"I'm coming!"Madeline yelled back trying her best to be patient. She didn't ever want to sound like him that was for sure. She stood up from the chair by the window that was her bed and stretched.

"Ughh…" she thought, "If I have to sleep in that chair one more night I think I'll die." The chair was good for some things though. For one thing it was right next to the window. During the day it was wonderful for people watching, and looking across at the bay.

That's what inspired her to paint it. And at night the view of the sky was fantastic. Still, a wonderful view didn't make the hell her father gave her worth it.

As she moved across the tiny apartment to what I guess would be called their kitchen she thought the only thought that ever brought her joy. This is only temporary. She thought back to when she had first been called upon to care for her father.

She had been working at a mill and selling her paintings on the side. Her mother had passed away when she was 12 so it had just been her father and her. Him being a compulsive gambler and drinker she hadn't been that happy growing up. That's why when she turned 16 she packed up and left hoping to never darken that doorway again.

That's why little more than a year later, when a doctor showed up on the doorstep of the boarding house she lived in telling her that she had to return home to take care of her father she wasn't too happy.

Apparently he had come down with pneumonia from working too hard at the docks. She scoffed when the doctor told her that.

She knew for a fact that her father only worked about once every two weeks. He spent the rest of his time at the races or at the bar. The only way my father is sick she thought, is if alcoholism became a disease.

Still, she agreed to go see him. He was her father after all. And that's how she ended up here, sleeping in this hard chair and fixing meals while her father just lay in his bed, yelling and drinking.

She was having serious doubts that there was even anything wrong. For one thing he never took his medicine, and for another she could have sworn she smelled horse on him that night she came in late. Never the less, the doctor insisted that he really was ill so here I am.

Madeline opened the cabinet looking for breakfast fixings. The food supply was very low. And with her father not on his feet it looked like she was going to have to get a job.

She sighed with frustration and just kept her self from grinding her teeth as she fixed his tray. Then with a smile plastered on his face she picked up the tray and braced herself to face the dragon…


End file.
